Corporate Vampires
by femme-mal
Summary: Yes, there really are vampires even in the all-human world; Bella knows they roam the halls of the biggest corporations. AH, B/E, M-rating for anticipated language, lemons.
1. Chapter 1

CHAPTER 1

Aro bellowed from his office, his voice carrying clearly down the hall in both directions.

"Damn it, Bella, would you get in here right now and fix this bloody report?"

Ugh. Not again. In spite of his level of education and comfort with all things mechanical, the man simply could not use a fucking mouse to save his life.

Nor could the man remember that Bella was something more than an IT technician or a secretary or a babysitter or a personal ass-wiper.

Bella finished keying in a few more strokes on her spreadsheet and shouted out of her office down the hall.

"I'll be there in just a damned second, don't touch anything!"

If Aro was going to be an expensively groomed ass and yell at her like a flunky, she wasn't going to play nice. She was going to yell back and make sure everybody else in the business knew exactly what kind of ass he was.

She trotted down the hall briskly and whisked into Aro's office; she could picture him at his highly polished solid walnut wood desk, wearing a crisply starched white cotton shirt and silk tie with navy blue suit pants, his dark hair combed back, leaning over his keyboard while inflicting damage unabated.

Sure enough, her mental image was accurate. Aro was still clicking away on the mouse – clickety-clickety-clickety-click – as if trying to beat what he wanted out of the little peripheral with his beefy-but-soft hand.

"Stop! STOP! How many bleeping times do I have to spell this out to you, Aro? Click just twice in rapid succession to launch the application and input the data selected – and then fucking stop already!"

"What a piece of shit this system is!" he shouted back, scowling. "And you - you should fix this so it doesn't do this to me!"

Bella could hear muffled laughter from down the hall, along with a few muffled chortles and guffaws. How was it that she ended up with this jackass for a boss? How was it she ended up at a Fortune 100 company working for this Armani-suited attorney with an Ivy League education who was an officer of the corporation, only to get treated little better than the barista at the Starbucks around the corner?

And to think she'd asked for this, too. Begged her last boss to let her leave her post with his glowing recommendation in hand, telling him she really wanted to explore corporate law and finance and leave marketing behind.

She gave herself a mental bitch slap and gritted her teeth as she counted to ten slowly. She inhaled deeply, held her breath, and then slowly released it until the urge to throttle Aro with his own silk tie had passed.

"Aro."

"What?" he barked at her. "Aren't you going to fix this? I have work to do!"

"Aro. I need you to back the fuck away from the computer. In fact, it's mid-afternoon; you should go and stretch and get some coffee. You'll feel more productive shortly."

She'd managed to keep her voice level and restrained to a modulus just a bit louder than a whisper. She knew that Aro probably suffered from undiagnosed attention deficit disorder and had likely reached his limit of concentration without a fresh dose of caffeine and sugar to adjust his mood.

It never failed; every day about three p.m., Aro would get twitchy or pissy or just plain mean and stupid. And she'd catch the brunt of it, having to pick up after his temper tantrums.

After the first month on the job, though, she figured it out. She tested her theory by dropping in about 2:45 p.m. with a fresh cup of coffee and a cookie or muffin one day, and comparing his behavior to the days when she didn't offer caffeine or sugar. Bingo – she was able to reduce the amount of disruption to the financial analysis projects she worked on to a minimum if she gave the stupid wretch a mid-afternoon snack.

How ridiculously pathetic this was. To think that across the country there were more men in positions of power, wearing bespoke suits while parked on their asses in corner offices, treating the help like crap and driving the economy crazy all for the lack of self-awareness.

After working for Volturi Holdings Inc., Bella suspected much of history was shaped in this manner, with wars fought by arrogant men who'd simply needed a dose of caffeine and sugar.

"All right, I'll go down to Starbucks and get a venti. I'll be back shortly and this better be fixed by the time I return," Aro huffed, giving her the elevator look once up and down out of the corner of his eye before turning on his well-shined heels to storm out of his office.

_Yeah, I saw that move, you sexist pig, _she thought to herself_; thanks for the crappy icing on this shit cake_. Bella could hear his attitude change before he reached the end of the hallway; his footsteps were initially hard and pounding on the marble flooring as he left. By the time he reached the end of the hall at the exterior exit door, it almost sound like he'd begun to skip lightly.

So goddamned predictable, he was; it was like dealing with a five-year-old.

And now she had to try and resolve whatever tailspin he'd forced the financial reporting system into with his repeated mouse bashing.

Fuck. It looked like he'd re-entered millions of dollars of contracts again and again, each repetition likely corresponding to a click of Aro's trigger-happy mouse finger.

Worse yet, he'd been doing it for some time before he'd bellowed at Bella for help. There were hundreds of millions of duplicates now in the system, and she was going to have to beg the IT folks to back them off and restore the financial report system to a point before Aro's damage had begun, or risk having to deal with auditors at some point down the road were she to use a massive credit to offset Aro's ADD-enhanced entries.

Thank the stars above that Aro didn't have access to the actual accounting system, only a report-producing system, or he'd surely have the Securities and Exchange Commission and the IRS beating on the double doors in a heart beat.

Bella tried to back out the oldest duplicate entries first; they wouldn't budge. She kept trying each entry, with most of the recent entries readily deleting and the oldest remaining firmly entrenched.

Nuts. This really did mean she would have to make a call to the IT department and ask for assistance from one of the application support analysts. None of her usual tricks had any effect on entries created by Aro's stupidity.

"Application Support; how can I help you?" A smooth and appealing male voice responded after Bella dialed for help.

"This is Bella Swan in Financial Products Group. One of our management team had a problem earlier today with a financial report application used to model products. Can you help with this?"

"I can take a look at it; can you give me the userid of the manager in question so I can look up their report files and any open sessions in the application?"

"098765, Aro Marmotta."

"One moment, please, while I pull up his files and sessions."

"Take your time." Bella wondered what it looked like on the backend of the application system; it looked completely fucked up from her point of view on the user's side.

The analyst whistled into the phone. "Yeah, 'had a problem' is a nice way of saying the manager in question is an ID10T," he said.*

"Oh, yeah, thanks for the candid geek speak – the man is definitely an idiot." Bella laughed; if only this analyst knew the rest of the story.

"I think I can reset his files and sessions back to the point before he started abusing this application, Miss Swan. One moment, please." Bella could hear the analyst clattering away on his keyboard; the lack of hesitation was a good sign, she thought.

"There, all set, I think all the crap has been purged. The ID10T's report files are now restored to the point before he launched his reporting session today. Just end the session you see on his screen and then open a new session; all the bad data will be gone."

She did as he directed, confirming that the duplicate data induced by Aro's excess mousing had indeed disappeared.

"Thank you so very much; I know this is not a typical support call, but you know how these senior executives are when they get too close to applications." She wondered if he could hear her breathe a sigh of relief.

"Thankfully senior executives are few in number. If your ID10T has this problem again, don't hesitate to call and ask for Edward at this extension. I don't always answer, but whoever does will transfer the call to me."

"Thanks so much again, Edward. I'll keep that in mind; I hope this particular manager can be persuaded to stay away from the reporting system even if I have to do more work myself. 'Bye now."

Bella made a mental note to send an email to the head of the department to offer her compliments on Edward's prompt efficiency; he was so calm and effective in his handling of this mess, too, which put her at ease. She was half tempted to call Edward back and ask if there was any way to restrict Aro's access to the system, but with Aro's seniority that would be a nearly impossible option.

She had no sooner settled back into her office to finish the financial projects analysis she had been working on when Aro bounded into her office like a happy Chesapeake Retriever.

"I see you got my report cleaned up, Bella, thanks."

"You're welcome, Aro," she said grudgingly. She had to give it to him; unlike other members of the management team, Aro would at least acknowledge the efforts of the help who had to clean up behind him. She hoped he'd take the hint and leave her office as she kept her eyes on her computer screen and continued to punch in data.

"By the way, Bella, I might have found a way to solve my financial report problem; you won't have to mess with that application after all. Look, I have a new nifty application to do that same reporting on my BlackBerry now."

Aro held the device down where Bella could see the screen; he continued to click on the tiny trackball on the device as he waited for her to look at the display.

Bella glanced over, and then grabbed the edge of the desk, gripping it tightly. She clenched her jaw and gritted her teeth while digging the heels of her pumps into the floor; her eyes close tightly as she began to count to ten slowly.

Aro had just re-entered all the duplicate data into the system that the application support analyst had removed – this time from his BlackBerry, with which he so often made "pocket calls" through butt dialing from places as diverse as a deer blind in the woods during hunting season to international hotel lobby bathrooms.

_Fuck my life_, though Bella; what else could this over-educated pampered jackass possibly do next to fuck her life?

~ o ~ O ~ o ~ O ~ o ~ O ~ o ~

*** ID10T **(eye-dee-ten-tee) – derogatory slang used by IT community to refer to an "idiot" user who may have inflicted their own problems.

**Author's Note:** This is my first multi-chapter work of fan fiction, which I am composing literally on the fly. I can't tell you right now how long this fanfic will be, nor can I tell you how often I will add chapters. I tend to write as the muse moves me, and the bloody muse doesn't like to be pushed, bitch that she is.

Balance of this author's note may be found at .

**Disclaimer:**This disclaimer applies to this and all subsequent chapters of this particular work. All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended. Copyright 2011- Do not copy for translation or republication without express permission of author except for consumption as a downloaded mobile product on a mobile device.


	2. Chapter 2

CHAPTER 2

The employee break room television was flipped to CNBC; the market looked flat, according to the crawl at the bottom of the screen, continuing a recent trend.

That meant the board of directors' meeting this next week would be dicey. The directors - some of which were corporate officers and directors of the parent corporation as well as the smaller Volturi Financial Services, Inc. – would be very itchy about the financial models for projected earnings for next quarter if this flat market did not improve soon.

And this meant that Bella would be required to crunch more data through her spreadsheets between now and the board meeting, and that her two bosses would be breathing down her neck for the duration. When the market was up, the place nearly made money without much effort; when the market softened, the old dogs would have to learn some new tricks in order to keep the guys at the top of the ladder and investment analysts at the big brokerage houses happy.

Bella checked her cell phone for the time after fixing a mug of green tea; the market had just closed, and she had at least another ninety minutes of work ahead of her, barring any complications.

She couldn't call them "unforeseen" complications knowing only too well that management would probably demand some new of her based on the current market. Been there, done that, have a lot of canceled dates and late evenings crunching numbers at the office to show for it.

The president's administrative assistant can be heard going over the schedule for the board room with the other administrative assistants. It's a sign that the business day is wrapping up and that the management team is beginning its quarterly "pre-game" preparation for the board meeting next week. There will be a lot of lunches delivered to the board room as the executives review the numbers and their presentations collaboratively before they meet with the really big dogs.

Really big dogs that really bite and draw blood, the kind that can chew up and spit out investment bankers and corporate officers alike.

Returning to her desk with her mug of tea, Bella settled in to crunch more numbers. The financial models don't look promising when compared to the business's performance over the last decade. No matter which scenarios she punches in, the projected outcomes are flat at best.

Not good. She might as well call her friend Angela and tell her she'd be tied up this weekend; odds were even or better that she'd be working all weekend because of these crappy models.

She leaned back in her chair and stretched. Wow, she hadn't even realized the building had cleared out and the sun had set. She packed up her laptop and briefcase and shut the lights off; she could have heard a pin drop, it was so quiet in her department.

Walking down the corridor between corporate buildings, she looked out the windows toward the parking lot. There were only a handful of cars in the 500-car lot, and one of them was hers; it was parked in pool of light like an island in the middle of the dark pavement.

She felt deeply alone at that moment.

Lost in her thoughts, Bella was staring so intently at her lonely car in the lot that she nearly walked into someone in front of her at the exit door. She jumped with a start and sputtered, "Oh! Excuse me! I'm so sorry!" holding her hands out in front of her as if to protect the person from further indignities against their person.

A rather tall person, too, Bella noted as she looked up; he was very attractive, with a tousled mop of hair that didn't fit the carefully groomed corporate mold at Volturi. His jaw was lean and square, covered with a light stubble that was more than a five o' clock shadow – again, a feature that didn't conform to the corporate mold. He offered a wry smile which reached his eyes; they were a deep mossy green, not a color Bella had seen before.

"No problem at all, no harm, no foul," he said to her as he reached forward and pushed open the exit door. "I take it you're on your way out for the evening?" He gestured out the door as he held it open.

"Yes, all done for the day. Thanks very much," she whispered, her throat clenched for some reason; she couldn't take her eyes off him, either.

She finally got a grip on herself and thought about her personal safety; she was all alone and didn't know this person at all. As large as he was, he could easily overpower her; she pulled her car keys out of her pocket and gripped them as if they were weapons. She hoped that security had live video camera feed covering the lot, just in case.

"I can call security if you'd like to have one of the on-duty guards escort you to your car," he volunteered; he was looking at her intently, as if he'd read her mind. She wondered if her caution appeared on her face; she could feel a faint blush on her cheeks, her forehead a bit tight.

"No, that's all right, thanks, I should be fine to get to my car." She hoped she put him at ease.

"Well, have a nice evening," he said with a smile.

"You, too," she choked out as she stepped through the doorway and began to walk toward her car.

Huh, there actually were gentlemen here at Volturi after all, Bella thought. Most of them were so preoccupied with themselves and their career that simple niceties like manners were forgotten.

She looked over her shoulder to see if the door-opening gentleman walked out behind her - no, he'd continued on down the corridor toward the executive office wing. By the time she reached her car and looked back at the building complex, she could no longer see him through the bank of windows along the corridor.

He'd vanished.

~ o ~ O ~ o ~ O ~ o ~ O ~ o ~

Bella was up at six the next morning and on her treadmill watching Bloomberg television by 6:15 a.m. for her weekday walk and morning update. The markets in Asia closed down and Europe was trending flat to down. Damn, she'd have to be in the office early this morning; she was sure that even now, at least a couple of the corporate officers were doing the very same thing somewhere else around town - running on a treadmill, watching the overseas markets and coming to the conclusion that new financial models would be required.

And they'd be calling and emailing Bella the moment they stepped off their own treadmills, as soon as they could get their hands on their bloody "CrackBerries."

Vowing to make it up to herself after the board meeting next week, Bella cut her treadmill and stretching time short and hit the showers. She was already stressing out; she tried to do some deep breathing exercises while she stood under the warm water, mentally imaging rinsing stress away like the shampoo rinsing out of her hair.

She went for her safety wardrobe - white cotton button-down blouse with navy skirt and navy pumps - and skipped doing anything but drying her hair and putting it up in a simple twist. There wasn't time for anything more; she'd have to check her wardrobe tonight after work to make sure that her safety wardrobe was prepared for a week of early mornings.

Her phone was already flashing with messages by the time she pulled her travel mug away from the coffee maker at 7:10 a.m.; at 7:30 a.m. she was at the office, at her desk, checking her phone and booting up her laptop.

So predictable, like Pavlov's dogs - there were several requests from management team members for new projection models based on several new assumptions. It was going to be a long day.

It was going to be a long week.

~ o ~ O ~ o ~ O ~ o ~ O ~ o ~

Aro strode into her office at 10:30 a.m., bearing a fresh mug of coffee. _You know what they say about Greeks bearing gifts_, she thought to herself.

"Yes, Aro?" she asked as he parked himself in the guest chair after placing the mug on her desk next to her travel mug. She and Aro knew each other well enough that they'd long dispensed with the formalities of greetings.

Besides, it seemed pointless and inefficient to wish someone a "Good Morning" when the morning hadn't been good and was beyond redemption.

"I'll assume that Marcus and Caius have already got you running through hoops with new numbers this morning."

"Yes, just like the last so many quarters before a board meeting," she said. "What's up? You're not usually the one asking for new models; what's going on that you bring me coffee?"

"Ah, your psychic powers are still phenomenal, Bella, sharp as always."

"Aro, cut the crap. I'm under the gun here, crunching as fast as I can. Whatever it is, save us both time and just spit it out. Besides, I can tell whatever it is will be bad since you're not only reduced yourself to getting me coffee, but flattering me as well."

Bella hadn't looked up from her monitor until that moment; she gave him a sideways glance from under a furrowed brow, check his body language.

Aro's brow knit as he looked down at his shiny loafers; he picked at a piece of lint on his suit pants and then crossed his arms over his chest. His lips pursed as if he was holding something back.

Whatever this was he was about to drop on her was bad; the signs were all there. He was so transparent.

She saved her work and turned around to give Aro her full attention, grabbing a pen and a legal pad as he continued to stew.

"Well, management wants to look at some other options for improving the financials; the trend is flat and softening, and the company needs to take some proactive measures to improve profitability going forward."

"Yeah, I know that, Aro, I can see it in the models I'm working on and report to management. What don't I know already? More specifically, why are you involved?" Aro was the chief legal counsel for the financial services subsidiary; he wasn't a number cruncher, although what he did required solid understanding of the financials and occasional financial modeling.

"We may need to have some other corporate vehicles ready immediately following the board meeting, which means we may have some additional new corporate governance* work done by the meeting. It'll be skeleton work, just the bare bones, but there will need to be enough prep work completed to allow for a solid presentation to the board." He didn't look up as he unfolded his arms, clasping his hands in his lap.

_Ah. That's the worst part, right there; he's unfurled a bit. But there's more if he still won't look in my eye_, thought Bella.

"Okay, what else? There's more, yes?"

He looked up this time, as if gaging her reaction. "The investment bankers have been pushing some products we've not used before; they will be part of the new corporate vehicles as well. I'm going to need to you to help me ensure the banks' documents are only boilerplate and not altered. It shouldn't be much additional work, but it's a new and additional concern, nonetheless."

"On the face of it, it doesn't sound like much - but then, what are the options here? Management says 'jump' and one can either ask how high or find the exit."

Aro is now completely relaxed; his forehead has softened and a tiny smirk formed on his lips.

"I'll email you the details and you can ask me any questions after you get a chance to look at them. Let me know when you're done reading through them so we can discuss timing." He rose and smiled, then turned and walked out of the office.

_You're welcome_, she though sarcastically. She'd give even odds that she'd have to put in 16 hour days on Saturday and Sunday with this new assignment.

_My life, fucked again_, she crabbed to herself. At this rate she might have to give up the idea of ever having a date let alone a relationship.

.

~ o ~ O ~ o ~ O ~ o ~ O ~ o ~

*** Corporate governance** - the processes by which corporations are established, directed, administered or controlled. This is particularly important in large conglomerate or corporate holding company structures, as the nature of the relationship between subsidiaries and the parent corporation is extremely important. See Wikipedia entry on Corporate Governance for more information.

**Author's note:** This work is un-beta'd. For more author's notes, see femmemalheureuse [dot] posterous [dot] com / corporate-vampires-authors-notes-chapter-2 (remove the [dot] and replace with period, remove spaces for URL) - see also author's profile.

06AUG2011


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